


like real people do

by Hollstein1698



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:23:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollstein1698/pseuds/Hollstein1698
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She's liked you for months, for more than just your brief bout with heroism."</p>
            </blockquote>





	like real people do

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at writing what goes on in 2.05. 
> 
> Title from the Hozier song of the same name.

You vaguely register the sound of Laura’s giggles floating down the stairs as you stare off after her, letting the reality of the situation sink in.

She _likes_ you. She’s liked you for _months,_ andfor more than just your brief bout with heroism.

And she had _stripped_. Awkwardly and clumsily, true, but the intention was obvious, and you can still feel the ghost of her lips against yours.

Once you’re past the point of being shell shocked, you let a slow smile grace your lips before racing down towards the wine cellar. Only letting yourself really scan your options for a quick moment, you select the nicest bottle of champagne you see, then vanish in a cloud of smoke up to the solarium. 

You get there before she does, of course, because you don’t play fair. When she bursts through the door, she’s a little flushed, and she pouts at you adorably. “You cheated.” 

“Never promised I wouldn’t.” You raise the bottle of champagne. “I hope this will make it up to you, though.”

“It’s a start,” she says, her voice dripping with innuendo that’s mismatched with her bright, innocent smile. 

You move over to one of the leather chaises, almost identical to the one on your floor, laying down on it and tilting your head over at Laura, inviting her over. She lets out another small giggle, then walks over to join you. While she situates herself against you, arm draped over your stomach, you concentrate on opening the bottle. It’s only after you opened it that you realize you forgot glasses. 

“I’ll be right back, cutie,” you say, trying to extract yourself from Laura. 

“No, no, it’s alright.” Her grip on you tightens. “We can just drink from the bottle.”

You chuckle low. “As you wish, princess.” You offer her the bottle, and she takes a small swig of it before passing it back to you. 

She looks skyward through the glass ceiling while you’re taking sips from the bottle, and you look at her instead. You’ve spent years watching the stars, and though you never tire of it, you’d much rather look at her. She’s more beautiful than any constellation. 

“Come on, Carm,” Laura nudges you softly, pulling your focus from studying her features and she gestures upwards. “Show me some.”

You hum and pass her the bottle, reluctantly turning your eyes upwards. “Okay. That—” you point, tracing your finger through the air—“Is Orion.”

“I know  _that_  one, Carm.” She pouts at you again over the rim of the bottle. 

Smiling, you press a kiss to her temple. “Why don’t you show me some, then?”

She looks up at you with an exasperated smile then tilts her head up again, passing the bottle back to you. “Okay, well, I obviously know Orion, the Hunter. He’s easy, because of the belt.” You hum your assent again, burying one hand in her hair and running your fingers across her skull lightly. “And I think that one is… yeah, that one is definitely Perseus. The Hero.” 

She looks at you then, a quick flick of her eyes, maybe still a little self-conscious about your earlier discussion. You dip your head in a small nod, encouraging her to keep going with another kiss to her temple. 

“Um, let me see… Canis Major, right?” 

“The Great Dog, yes.” You look up at where she’s pointing uncertainly and grab her hand, tracing the constellation for her. She smiles at you and intertwines your fingers.

“I think that’s all I know.” Laura is looking at you now, instead of at the constellations. She’s looking at you with those stars in her eyes, a light flush on her cheeks, and you remember her little speech from downstairs. She _likes you_. Suddenly, you feel like this is all too much. You place the bottle of champagne on the table that’s next to the chaise, and you cup Laura's face in your hands, bringing your mouth to hers reverently. This kiss feels exactly like the last one you shared downstairs. Like a promise of more to come. She melts against you, one hand on your chest, and your hands moving up into her hair. 

You’ve never considered yourself a patient person, and you feel like you’ve been waiting for her for a hundred years, so when you feel her tongue against your lips, you open your mouth and let Laura push you softly until you feel the chaise against your back and Laura’s legs on either side of your thighs. Maybe briefly, at the very inception of your relationship, you considered a long, slow burn of a seduction before letting things progress with Laura, but now, with her slight weight pressing into you in every perfect way possible, her mouth insistent against yours, her hands roaming across your chest, you don’t think you can wait. Your impatience gets the better of you, and her willingness and eagerness is more intoxicating than the champagne. 

Laura’s hands slip under your sweatshirt, and you let her pry it off of you. She pauses to look down at you, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so exposed in your life, because she’s gazing at you like she could break you—and you want her to. Surging forward, you capture her mouth in yours again, bringing your arms around her to brace her when you flip your positions. She gasps in surprise, a small squeak that makes you smile and kiss her sloppily. 

When your hands move to the belt around her waist, you stop yourself, pulling back from her mouth and watching as her eyes open. They’re dark and lidded, her mouth red, and your eyes drop to the slight heaving of her chest. The faint heartbeat that you possess seems to thunder in your ears, the ache between your thighs becoming more and more unbearable the longer you take in the sight of her. You drag your gaze back up to her face, searching her eyes for any hint of fear or doubt. You can hear her heartbeat, so much stronger than yours, loud and erratic, and even though you  _know_ , you still need to hear it. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“Absolutely not,” Laura responds hastily, cradling your face in her hands, and you close your eyes for a moment, relishing in the comfort her touch brings you. “What’s the likelihood that things will be this perfect again any time soon?”

“Much higher once I board up our section of the apartment,” you say, a slight growl in your tone. 

She laughs at that, her hands wandering into your hair, and you hum, dipping your head down to rest in the crook of her neck, dragging your lips across her skin. Her belt comes undone then, while she’s playing with your hair and you’re dragging your mouth and teeth over her pulse point. The hands in your hair tighten when you bite down, no longer soft and aimless. You hear her exhale a shaky breath, and that’s all you need to start undressing her in earnest. You peel her tights off slowly, kissing down her thigh and knee as you slip them off. She arches upwards so you can reach the zipper on the back of her dress, her body pressing against you completely for a moment, then it’s joining her belt and stockings on the floor. 

You stop to take her in again, staring down at her like you always do, with so much adoration that you never knew what do to with until now. She’s smiling sweetly up at you, her cheeks flushed, and the longer you look down at her, the more self-conscious she gets. She starts to gnaw on her bottom lip, flicking her eyes away from you. “Carm…” 

“You’re so perfect, Laura,” you breathe out, because it’s true, because she’s beautiful and loyal and stubborn and yours.  

“I’m pretty sure the flawless one in this relationship is you.” Her hands are traveling up and down your forearms slowly, and you think she’s trying to work up the nerve to put them somewhere else. “And you’re… entirely too clothed for my liking right now,” she admits with another nervous smile.  

“Feel free to rectify that.” You kiss her again, grabbing her hands and placing them at the top of your pants. She gets the idea, and unbuttons them with fumbling fingers. She only manages to push them off down to the tops of your knees before you have to move off of her, grumbling, to take them off. You slip off your necklace and bracelets too while you’re at it, and when you turn to face Laura again, you find that she had followed you to the edge of the chaise. She’s bracing her arms up behind her and staring at you again, her eyes traveling up and down your newly exposed frame. You’ve never seen Laura look predatory before (you like to think that’s more your angle), but the look on her face right now can only be described as such. 

“You are so incredibly sexy,” she says, “And I feel like…like—” She shakes her head with another nervous laugh. 

"If the last word of that sentence isn't some synonym for 'beautiful,' then I'm not entirely sure I'll sympathize much with what you're trying to say there, Laura." 

"I guess I always just feel... Inadequate. Kind of." She's not meeting your eye anymore, her head turned slightly downwards. 

You move so that you're back on top of her, knees on either side of her thighs. "You are so far from inadequate, cupcake," you say, running your hands up and down her arms. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You smile a little into your next kiss, because she's adorable and because you need to make her understand just how far away from inadequate she really is. 

Laura seems to understand that the time for talking has passed, because she lets you gently maneuver you both backwards against the chaise again, your hands slipping behind her to rid her of her bra. She shivers when you run your hands over her chest, her eyes fluttering shut and small, quiet noises spilling from the back of her throat that only get louder once you brush your thumbs over her nipples and palm her breasts softly. Her leg brushes against your thigh briefly before it settles over the back of your own and pushes you forward so that you're lying flat on top of her, and her mouth finds yours again, kissing you enthusiastically while you continue to tease her nipples. Her breathing only gets more and more labored the longer you tease her, and the moan she lets out when you lower your mouth to her breasts is the loudest one yet. You smirk against her skin, not surprised by how vocal she is in the least. 

"Carmilla, _please_ ," she implores. You notice one of her hands trying to sneak under the waistband of her underwear, but you grab her wrist, securing it against the mattress. Instead of answering her, you hum against her skin while you flick your tongue over her nipple, determined to wind her up to her exact breaking point before you give her what she wants. 

"Insufferable...vampire." She whimpers at the feeling of your teeth lightly scrapping against her breasts, the feeling of your free hand drifting down her stomach to lightly skate over the apex of her thighs, rubbing at her softly through the fabric. "Come _on_ ," she whines, her hips driving upwards, seeking more friction. 

Chuckling, you take your time kissing downwards along her body, sucking hickeys into the skin on her abdomen, her hipbones, the inside of her thighs, relishing in every small moan, every upward cant of her hips. You can smell her arousal. It invades your every sense, and you momentarily need to refocus, because you can feel yourself getting wetter from just realizing how much she wants you. 

Removing her underwear with one hand, you make soothing circles into her hip with the other, thinking to calm her ragged breathing, but it seems to only accomplish the opposite. Once she's completely devoid of all clothing, you kiss your way back up to her mouth. You move your lips over hers slowly, taking control of the pace, mostly because you're afraid her heart will literally burst through her chest at the rate its going. 

"Breathe, babe."

"You're making that kind of difficult," she whispers against your mouth. 

"I promise to go slow."

She hums her consent into your mouth as you move to stroke one hand between her legs, feeling just how warm and wet she is for the first time. Her arms circle you, and her legs spread open wider, welcoming the slow circles you're drawing onto her clit. Your stop kissing her when her panting becomes too frequent, and instead you move your mouth to her jaw, her shoulder, her chest. You let the unholy moans she's making spur your movements, dipping your fingers lower to collect her arousal and spread it over her clit, slowly driving her crazy with your pace, if the slight canting of her hips and the blunt nails digging into your shoulder blades are anything to go by. 

You continue your tortuous pace until she's repeating your name like a prayer, and it's only then that you push inside her with one finger. Laura arches upwards, her relief spilling out of her mouth in a gorgeous whine. You continue to cover any piece of skin you can reach with your mouth, sucking and biting and licking while you slowly drag your finger in and out of her. 

You can already feel her fluttering around you, and that just won't do. You remove your hands from her completely, and you swear she almost sobs in desperation, but you don't plan on making her wait for too long. You shuffle yourself downwards, your knees hitting the hardwood as you grip her hips, drag her forward to the edge of the chaise, and drape her legs on your shoulders. You waste little time in finding her clit with your tongue, and her hands immediately fly to tangle themselves in your hair, her hips thrusting upwards. She comes so fast, you didn't even have time to push inside of her again. Her body spasms, and the noises spilling from her mouth are positively delicious. When she relaxes, you don't slow down. Instead, you suck her clit into your mouth lightly, and her hips jerk violently forward. You continue lapping at her, dragging your tongue through her broadly, then concentrating flicks to her clit. You don't enter her again until she comes a second time, and it's only then that you push two fingers into her, the throaty moans she makes when you’re inside of her and the harsh grip on your hair helping to add to the wetness you can feel slowly traveling down the inside of your thigh. You can still feel her pulsing around your fingers, but this time you don’t let her come down before you start thrusting into her. She curses loudly, innumerable _fucks_ and _goddamns_ spilling from her mouth, mixed in with broken half syllables of your name. Her hips move in a frantic rhythm with your fingers, and you concentrate on curling them inside of her while sucking on her clit. She comes again, your name a long, drawn out moan on her lips. 

You bring her down just as slowly as you built her up, lapping at her clit and shallowly thrusting your fingers into her. She falls backwards on the chaise, her breathing erratic, and she has one arm flung across her eyes. You kiss your way upwards, taking your time to kiss every inch of her you can. 

She sighs into your mouth when you reach her lips. She's so spent, her mouth only moves against yours lazily and languidly, but you don't care. You could ignore your own dripping need for ages, as long as you could continue to make her come apart under you. 

But she doesn't seem to think along those same lines, because after a few minutes of aimless kissing, her lips are wandering, her hands are gripping your shoulders and you find yourself on your back again.

+++

You come undone under her careful and attentive ministrations time and time again that night, and you feel so full of emotion, you can’t bring yourself to articulate any of it. You opt instead, to just _feel_ them.

At some point, you end up in your own bedroom, then later, in your living room, and you fall asleep with her on the chaise there in the early hours of the morning. 

When you wake up, she's in front of her computer again, and the smile that blooms across your face is one of complete adoration and wonder. You know someday you'll tell her how she made you feel last night, but for now, you're content to brush your hands across her shoulders reverently for a moment before you go change into a bathrobe, your intentions for the day perfectly clear in your lack of pragmatic clothing. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come bother me [on Tumblr.](http://hollstein1698.tumblr.com/)


End file.
